TRP: Finch and Larkin (Flock)
Jen: Day 208, Finch's bunker. Larkin followed the crow through the streets, straining to catch even the slightest hint of pursuit. Nothing, though, which was at the same time reassuring and conspicuous. The crow fluttered around a corner, and Larkin followed- then stopped at the sight of the open cellar door. This must be the place but why the fuck would Finch leave a door open? If anything, Larkin had suspected he'd become more paranoid, not less. She readied her crossbow and snuck closer, the weapon half raised, to take a peek in. Izzy: The bunker was empty now, with just scuff marks left on the floor where things had been moved around, and char marks on the walls where Finch had misfired lightning bolts. Fucking jumping at shadows, usually. It'd been safe here, though. It was the only place he could think of to come back to. He leaned against the back wall, still facing the door, but he was fucking out of magic and that little shit had slashed his crossbow's cable. Still had a couple knives. Still had the javelin Jonn'd given him, but its magic was spent, too, and he wasn't any fucking good with a regular javelin. He held it across his lap anyway. It'd be something. A couple of empty healing potions -- those weird ones Jonn's dad made, the bottles without labels -- were scattered around him, but they hadn't stopped all of the bleeding. Not a fucking lot of it, actually. Amren's claws and teeth had fucked him up pretty bad, but he was alive, at least. Just didn't have a plan on what to do next. Hadn't had a fucking plan when he'd gone to the warehouse, either, just ... Well, this was what not having a fucking plan got you. He hissed air through his teeth and leaned his head back, closing his eyes for a moment. Just -- just for a moment. Jen: "Finch!" Larkin almost dropped the crossbow at the sight of him. All fucked up, bleeding, sitting here fucking asleep in an open cellar. Asleep or- She rushed down the stairs, not really knowing what she'd do when she got to him, but something, something. Izzy: He jerked a bit more upright, fumbling with the javelin, calling up lightning around his other hand. Right. Lark. Right. He'd told her she could meet him here, it'd just kind of slipped his mind. That was a plan, sort of, except it had too many fucking variables because he didn't know what the hell she wanted or what she was going to do. Just made him tense. He found himself wishing Jonn were here just because he knew that little bastard was on his side. He'd done a great fucking job of making sure Larkin wouldn't be. He kept the lightning crackling around his hand, holding it up. It shook a little, though. Real fucking intimidating, he was, bleeding out in a basement. Jen: The energy cracked to life in Finch's hand and Larkin stopped where she was. "It's me," she said, holding one hand up. The crossbow in her other was still down but her hand was tense, ready to jerk up and pull the trigger. Fuck, though. What if she'd just stepped into a trap? Izzy: He swallowed. "Yeah, I can fucking see that." His voice came out weaker than he'd fucking like. Yeah, real goddamn intimidating. She looked wary, though. Fair. Fucking fair. He made himself drop the spell, and dropped his hand. "What'd you fucking want?" he asked, leaning his head back again. Jen: Larkin's stomach sank. Somehow, after their last meeting, she assumed that... what, they were friends again? Well, fuck no. But not- hostile like this. Like he had the right to be, but she'd assumed he wasn't, because... because then Larkin didn't have that tiny straw to hold onto either. She slowly set down the crossbow and lowered her hands. "Talk. Can I close the door?" Izzy: He waved a hand at the door, pulling it shut with magic, and when that plunged the bunker into complete fucking darkness he snapped his fingers to summon up some little lights. Fucking cantrips. Amazing things. That made him feel a bit better. Wished he had enough juice left to set an alarm, but he didn't. He pushed himself upright a bit more, looking at her. Looked like shit. Fuck. "Been to the warehouse?" Jen: "Yeah." She sat down in place and took up the crossbow to unload it. "You, too, I heard. You look like shit." Izzy: For a second he forgot that they were supposed to be fucking angry at each other, and said, "That's just what my face looks like, Lark." Jen: That made her crack a smile and she almost fell in with the banter. God, how much she wanted it. Wasn't the right time, though. And he did really look fucked up. "You need a fucking healer, or... shit." She patted her pockets. None of Hansel's healing concoctions left. But that didn't mean she couldn't do anything to stop some of the bleeding. "Here." She threw off her coat and pulled her shirt over her head. "Let's get you patched up some." Izzy: He scowled and closed his eyes. "Fuck off. I don't need your fucking pity. I'm ..." He kicked at one of the empty potion bottles. "Fine." And if he did bleed out, that would kind of solve the problem of what to do next. Jen: Larkin halted with the shirt in her hands. "Fucking fine, bleed to death then." She said and started wriggling back into it. Izzy: Goddammit. Well, that had fucking worked, then. Good plan. He kicked the other bottle away, sulking. Jen: "So what the fuck happened?" Izzy: He shrugged, still looking away. "I heard the Sanguines were making their final move against the Basha. That fucking ... Bala ... person ... thing -- that bitch was gonna break the kobold fucker out. Goddamn Shrewd turned on --." He almost said us. "Turned on Renar. I would've sent Jonn but he's off doing some dumb shit somewhere else, so." He waved it off. "When I got there she was just fucking -- wiping the goddamn floor with them. I didn't want -- look, fucking whatever, while she was busy I got to the office and distracted Amren. Little shit hates me. It gave your uncle and Bretta a minute to get away." Jen: "Fuck." Larkin sat open mouthed. Fucking Shrewd. There was a guy deserved a hanging if she'd ever known one. "Why'd you go... I mean... fuck." She shook her head. "Thanks for that, man. When I got there I thought... fucking thought they were all dead. Bretta, she...they didn't let me in. Said I wasn't family anymore." Izzy: "The fuck is that all about?" He was more insulted on her behalf than he should have been. "That's bullshit." Jen: She scoffed. "Someone had it out for a friend kindnapped Pa. They thought... well, Bretta fuckin' told me it was my fault and I wasn't family anymore. Acted real fucking high n' mighty about it, and when I went to the warehouse to. y'know, talk to Renar, fucking Shrewd wouldn't let me in." She picked at a stone stuck in the sole of her boot. "We got him back. Pa, I mean, but... was too late." Izzy: "Fucking Shrewd," he muttered. He watched her for a second out of the corner of his eyes, thinking, then quietly said, "Glad you got your dad back." Jen: "Yeah. It's just...everything else. Gone." She looked him up and down again. Looked really bad off. She wondered whether Dragonborn scratches were prone to festering. With Finch's luck... Izzy: He scowled a bit. He wished he could fucking gloat, or something. Yeah, Basha, fucking terrible to lose everything, isn't it? Have people you trust turn on you, leave you for dead. Just fucking felt bad for her, though. "You've got that fucking guild, right? Got your new partner. He's not Renar's." He leaned his head back again, still not looking at her properly. "You'll be fuckin' fine, Lark." Jen: She gritted her teeth. Him of all to say that... and with her nickname, too. She could hear the rebuke in that. Don't fucking whine, look what all you got, and how little I do.' '''She shook it off. "Why'd you do that, anyway?" She asked with a wave at him. She wasn't here for sentimentaly, but for information. '''Izzy:' He hissed out a breath and uncomfortably pulled his knees up to his chest, a bit, crossing his arms over himself. If he just said something like, do what? or fuck you, that's why, she'd probably get frustrated and leave. Let him fucking wallow by himself. Eventually Jonn would find him, and he probably wouldn't be dead by then, and then ... something. Then he didn't fucking know what. "I don't fucking know," he grumbled after a moment. Lying. "I didn't think it through." That part was the goddamn truth, though. Jen: "You? You didn't think it through?" Izzy: "Fuck off," he muttered. Jen: "So you what, heard that shit was going down and thought you'd safe your old friend Renar? C'mon, Finch." Izzy: He grit his teeth. "Look, fuck you. Yeah. I didn't have any fucking problem with taking out the cartel heads, but Renar -- he's a fucking bastard, he's a piece of shit as far as I'm concerned, but he's your fucking family, all right? I never wanted him fucking dead, but shit happened too fast and then Bala was going off to fucking take care of him, and I didn't have time to ..." He closed his eyes and banged the back of his head against the wall. "Fuck off." Jen: "Oh." That shut her up because it was not... at all what she'd expected. Larkin hung her head and sat silent for a minute, before quietly saying, "Didn't think you cared." Izzy: "Yeah," he said. "Well." Jen: Larkin didn't know what to say. Didn't even know how to feel about that, because she'd assumend Finch's opinion of her was somewhere below dead fish but here he sat, telling her he cared about her enough to go safe her family; and Renar of all. So she sat and kept picking at the stone in her boot until she couldn't take the silence anymore. "You gotta let me patch you up," she told him, eyes''' fixed somewhere on the wall behind him. '''Izzy: He scoffed. Did fucking hurt, though. Little bastard had gotten him in the face, like he needed any more fucking help with that, and down his ribs, and in his thigh, too. Limped his damn way down here and now getting back up the stairs sounded fucking impossible. "You any fucking better at it than you used to be?" he asked. "Hanging out with a cleric and all." Jen: "I learned a trick or two." She took off her shirt again and began cutting it into long strips "Where'd he get you?" Izzy: He gestured to all of himself. "This part." Jen: "Hilarious," she deadpanned. When she was done with the shirt she took the length of rope coiled on her belt and cut it, too, to get thinner threads off it. "Strip," she said, nodding to Finch. There'd probably be more to do than he let on. Izzy: He gave her a suspicious look, because he was a suspicious bastard. No magic left, but he still had his cantrips. She could fucking beat him if it came down to knives, anyway. And she could have just shot him from the other side of the room, if that was what she planned to do. So he grumbled to himself and shifted, wincing as he crossed his legs under him, and dragged his shirt off one-handed, over his head. The blood had dried enough to get tacky, sticking the fabric to him and making him hiss a bit as it pulled away. Jen: Larkin shuffled closer to get a better look. She grimaced at the sight. Looked like he'd been attacked by a feral animal- which he kind of had, in a sense. It was too dark to properly see, though. She'd need Finch to call the lights closer while she worked. And then there was all the clotting blood. "You got any booze here?" She'd need something to clean the wounds. Water would be best but vodka would also do. Didn't want to go outside to get water from a well, though. Izzy: He waved to the complete fucking lack of anything in the bunker. "Not any goddamn more. Fuck, wait." He fumbled for his flask and shook it. "Nope. Fucking empty." Jen: "Be right back." She took the flask from him, snatched up the empty potion bottles, too, and left for the nearest well. Larkin found a water pump only a street crossing away, filled the bottles, then returned to the bunker a different route than she'd come. No one seemed particularly interested in her comings and goings but still- had to make sure. Finch had painted a big, red target on his back and Larkin herself had always had one, too. No sense in leading stray Sanguines to where they both could be conveniently slaughtered. Back at the bunker Larkin knocked before entering, in the pattern they used to use for signalling they were completely alone. Izzy: Finch nodded. Maybe she'd bring back some booze. Probably just fucking water, but god, he wanted a fucking drink. He scrubbed a hand over his face while she was gone, hissing when he accidentally bumped a scratch. That one wasn't so deep, at least. Little fuck hadn't been able to reach his face too well. The one on his thigh, though, just above the knee -- that one was fucking bad. He grimaced at it, drawing his mage lights closer and pulling his knife out of his belt to saw at his pants, hacking the cloth away from the scrapes so he could get a better look. Looked fucking awful. Big surprise. He was cold. The bunker was just ... cold. That was normal. It wasn't anything to do with the puddle of blood he was sitting in. He leaned his head back again and waited, starting at the knock on the door, hand tensing around the hilt of his knife, but the he recognized the pattern. Mask. Fuck. It'd been a long time since he'd heard that. Weirdly fucking comforting. Sometimes he wondered what it would have been like, if he hadn't fucked off. If Larkin would've -- helped him. And if she felt guilty. And if she gave a shit. Probably just because she assumed he had valuable information, and he could keep his cover with the Sanguines. That was the only reason this was happening now. Shit, he didn't know if that was better or worse. He pulled the door open with a mage hand, keeping his knife ready, just -- just in case she had someone with her -- but she didn't. Like she'd signalled. Only Lark. Safe. Made him fucking uneasy. Jen: Finch had already began laying the wounds bare, which was good, but now in the mage lights they looked even worsen than expected, which was, naturally, fucking bad. Larkin closed the door behind her and set the bottles out next to him. "No one's followed me," she let him know. "We're good." Izzy: He nodded. Larkin wasn't really that great of a liar. He was even fucking worse, but he was good at spotting them and reading people, and the fact that she seemed like she was just fucking being genuine made him shift. Finch had fucked up a lot of things in his life. That was how he'd gotten here. He knew he was fucking smart and good at what he did, but he was a fucking idiot and drunk about half the time, too, and jumpy, and he made serious fucking mistakes when he didn't plan ahead. He hadn't had a plan in letting Larkin come here, either, though, and maybe that wasn't a mistake. "Hey. Your uncle, what's he doing? I mean." He caught himself. "I'm not fucking fishing for information, just trying to figure out what Wyn's next move is gonna be. Is he going to try to retaliate?" Jen: "No. He's not doing a fucking thing. He... he fled." Larkin kept her head down and her eyes on Finch's wounds. Wasn't too hard because there were cuts fucking everywhere. Shallow, superficial ones that would heal without scars but also deep gashes that were still bleeding. She cut away the rest of his pant leg, then wet the fabric and begann dabbing the cuts clean. Izzy: Finch was quiet for a moment. "Shit." He ran a hand through his hair. "Shit, so ..." So it was fucking over. No more Basha. He'd figured that'd happen -- or maybe Renar would fight the Sanguines off -- either way, he'd fucking planned on being out of Skyport by then. He barely noticed her cleaning the scratches, just twitching a little, reflexively. He stared absently across the room, thinking. Jen: "Yeah. Guess that means they won." Larkin gave a heavy sigh, then looked up, frowning. "You got a plan to get out?" Izzy: "What -- out of the guild?" He looked puzzled and distracted. "Yeah, I'm just going to fucking leave. Get out of Skyport. Fuck the city." Jen: "Yeah, man, I fucking figured." She finished cleaning the wounds on his leg. Next came the bandaging. "This is gonna hurt," Larkin said quietly, but it was hardly necessary. He'd know. She bunched up a bit of the pant fabric and pressed it onto the big gash, then secured it in place with the strips of her shirt, tying them tight. Izzy: He hissed through his teeth, wincing, fingernails scraping at the stone floor as one hand clenched into a fist. "Fucking Sanguines," he muttered. "I never --." He scoffed. She didn't have any goddamn reason to believe him, anyway. "I honestly never thought it would fucking get this far, Lark. I thought the Basha could take her. I'm sorry." Jen: "Yeah." She tied one last knot, perhaps jerking it tighter than strictly necessary, and sighed. "Me, too." Larkin moved on to the next gash but halted before touching it, looking Finch in the eye. "I don't... uh. Blame you, or anything. You had..." She trailed off. Shook her head and took to cleaning the wound again even though she'd already done that. Izzy: He winced again as she pulled the makeshift bandage tight, clenching his jaw. God, this was just fucking ... awkward. He shouldn't have responded to the crow -- should've sent it to Jonn instead. Where the fuck was that little shit, anyway, when Finch needed him. The deal was that Finch stayed in the bunker -- the guildhouse, now -- and Jonn went out and did dumb shit for him. He wondered if it meant more, though, that he'd fucking done the dumb shit himself. Or if Larkin didn't blame him, anyway, maybe it didn't fucking matter. She was supposed to fucking blame him. She was supposed to not give a shit, and hate him, and he was supposed to hate her for not giving a shit. And she'd showed up and started trying to keep him from bleeding out, instead, and he was fucking apologizing to her and shit. Finch didn't know what to say, so he didn't say anything. Jen: The silence between them stretched while Larkin worked (except for the occasional grunt and curse from Finch). She didn't know what to fill it with anyway. Small talk? God, these times were over. In the past, they would make cynical jokes to distract each other when they had to do something painful, or lightly banter. What would they banter about now? How funny it was that it'd taken them almost two years and the complete collapse of Renar's empire to get them into a room alone? How the reason for Finch being in this miserable fucking state was that he'd saved the life of a man who'd ordered his hands broken, just so his partner who'd betrayed his trust wouldn't lose an uncle? Fucking hilarious. Maybe she should apologize. For... everything. Not that she hadn't, back then. After she'd gotten him out. Larkin had cried and cursed, explained and apologized but it hadn't done any fucking good. Finch had made his decision, and that was to cut her out. Only... he didn't seem to cold now. Not emotionally, anyway. Under that outer layer of dickish prickliness seemed to be a little warm spot for her. Or, Larkin realized, at least that was what she read into it. Him letting her see him vulnerable like that, and calling her 'Lark' all the time. Maybe... no. She shook it off. That thought lead nowhere and she should concentrate on not fucking Finch's wounds up more than they already were. If only she had more supplies. "He got you good," she muttered with a critical look at the long gash along his ribs. "We should... damn. You realize this is gonna fester if we don't do something, right?" She glanced up at his clammy face, frowning. Izzy: "Yeah, he's a little piece of shit," Finch grumbled. It was easier to bitch about Amren, or complain about the injuries. That shit was simple. "Fuckin' kobold motherfucker. Your, uh. Cleric friend." He fucking hated asking her for anything. "Could he fix me up, or -- I could go to a temple or something, I guess, just don't know where the fuckin' Sanguines have people, and ..." Jen: "Goro? Yeah, he... yeah. He'll fix you if I tell him to." God, she thought but managed to keep from saying out loud, Finch must be worse off than it looked, to be willing to trust Goro with healing him. Larkin looked at him doubtfully. "Just need to get you to him somehow." Izzy: He''' hesitated. Fuckin' Jonn really liked Goro for whatever reason. They could send the crow to Jonn, have him bring Goro here -- that way they'd be fifty-fifty, and Finch wouldn't be outnumbered. Fucking didn't want anyone else at the bunker, though, even if it wasn't his safehouse anymore. Bad enough having Larkin here, and that was fucking Larkin. (Like that fucking mattered.) He just didn't think it'd be a great idea to go to a guild healer looking like a stunted lunatic dragonborn had scraped him up. He already didn't know how he was going to fucking deal with that -- Amren definitely knew who he fucking was. It was a shitty plan, but he was going with claiming that Amren was just fucking crazy, and he'd never been at the warehouse -- Bala hadn't seen him, he was sure of that -- and he'd use Jonn as an alibi, and as long as he hadn't clearly been in a fight with something that had claws ... Yeah, it was a shitty plan. Really fucking bad. Too many holes. Fuck. He leaned his head back against the wall again. "I can fucking walk." Kind of. He shook his head. "Nah. I'll just go to a fucking temple. There's one not far off." He'd go by himself. That way she wasn't helping him. Yeah, that was better. '''Jen: Yeah, that was more like what she'd expected. Larkin rolled her eyes, about to give a snarky remark, but then remembered they weren't that kind of partners anymore. Wasn't her place. She shrugged. "Don't let anyone see you, though." Izzy: He scoffed. "Yeah, I'm not fucking stupid." It'd make things easier if they'd found a turncoat healer in the guild that he could trust, but there weren't a lot of Sanguine healers. There was an undercover Maskarran cleric at the temple a couple blocks away, though, Maybe she'd keep her mouth shut. Or maybe she was already red. Who fucking knew. Fuck, he had to stand up now, though. He tried to brace himself against the wall and push up, but it fucking hurt, and he let himself slide back down the couple inches he'd made it and scowled. Jen: Larkin watched, then stood up and offered Finch a hand. Didn't say anything. Izzy: He glared at the floor for a moment, then took it, and pushed up again, letting her help. Got him to his feet and he let go to slump against the wall, wobbling in place a bit. Just a couple blocks. He'd make it. (And then the cleric would turn him in, sell him out ...) It'd be really fucking satisfying to tell her that this didn't make up for her fucking abandoning him. That would fucking hurt her, he bet. The way she was acting now, talking about not blaming him and shit, kind of -- all right, not 'kind of,' but literally fucking helping him out. He sighed through his teeth and muttered, "Thanks." Jen: Larkin glanced him over. Didn't look like he'd even make it out the door, and even then... the Sanguines were everywhere now. With his luck, and all things considered, it would be a minor miracle if they didn't catch him on the way, if the bloodloss didn't get to him first. Fuck, this wouldn't do. "You won't make it," she said, quietly. "Let me... I'll go get Goro. Alright? We're gonna fix you., and then you can... fuck off or whatever." Izzy: Finch kept scowling. "I'll fucking make it. Made it every other fucking time by myself, didn't I?" Oh, fuck. He hadn't even meant for that one to come out like that. Jen: Right. He was right. She looked away and nodded. Didn't want to let him go like that, because hell, look at him, but she could hardly offer to come with. She'd only be a second target on his back. Izzy: Ah, fuck. He bickered with himself for a moment, going between not fucking wanting any more of her pity, and knowing that there was a good fucking chance he really wouldn't make it, and kind of fucking wanting her to help, if he was honest with himself. It didn't have to change anything. They were fucking ... allies, again. This could be fine. Reluctantly, he muttered, "You could ... fucking help me up the stairs. I'll be fine after that." Jen: "Okay." No need to question that change of mind. Larkin was only glad he took her help. Would've felt fucking awful if something had happened to him. She came closer again and offered an arm, her other going around his back to help him keep upright. Izzy: She just fucking went for it, too. He didn't have to convince her. Which was good, probably, because he fucking wouldn't have -- but of course she fucking did, when she was the one wanting to help him in the first goddamn place. He just had to ... let her. Well, that was fucking bullshit. He did, though. Limping a bit and still wincing, and cold, leaning partially on his javelin for support, and partially on her. Made getting up the stairs a lot fucking easier, he'd admit, with the one leg fucked up. It always hurt a bit, because of the way it'd been healed wrong, and it was all fucking slashed up, now. But it felt better because of Larkin. "Hey, are you ..." Ah, shit. "Are you gonna be all right? With your guild, or fucking whatever -- without Renar. You have a plan?" Jen: She gritted her teeth and didn't let on how much that question pained her, how much she felt lost and ripped out of her life. Wouldn't do her situation any good and he probably didn't want to hear it anyway, her whining about having lost her place in the world. Maybe he'd think it'd served her right, like some kind of late cosmic justice. "I'll manage," she said as they hobbled up the stairs. "I'll... dunno. Try and keep the bits 'n pieces together, maybe. For when he comes back." How she'd do that Larkin had no idea yet but it was the only thing she could imagine for herself right now. Gather a gang of the last loyal few, establish a small foothold for themselves. Keep low and without interest to the Sanguines until they could strike back. Izzy: Finch grimaced. "You think he's coming back?" Then he had another thought. "Does he even fucking know you got your dad or does he still think you're a fucking traitor, or some shit?" Jen: Larkin could only shrug to that. Bretta had said they kept contact through Lynette but that didn't mean anything. She silently cursed Finch for planting that thought in her mind... Larkin had always been fucking loyal to Renar and the thought he could consider her a traitor sat with her like a thorn. "He's on his way to Calimport," she said instead. "He'll probably start over there, but... " another shrug. "Who knows." Izzy: Finch knew it was two weeks to Calimport, by ship, two weeks back. Even if Renar got there and turned right back around for her, she'd be alone for a month. Only Basha left in Skyport. It'd probably make her a target for anyone looking to prove themself or make a name for themself. Some folks had stayed loyal even with the Sanguines' pressure, or refused to pick sides, but ... "You should stay out in Glimmerton," he said abruptly. "'Til you know. It'd be safer." He tried to think of a way to make that sound pragmatic, not like he cared about her, and came up blank. Fucking blood loss, that was all. Jen: "Nah." She shook her head. "I got a fucking bitch to kill is what. Can't do that out of Glimmerton." Izzy: "What, fucking Wyn? Lark." He stopped to stare at her. "How. How the fuck do you see that going down with, what, you and a fuckin' cleric, and me and Jonn? Yeah, real fucking crack team. Definitely pull off what the Basha couldn't manage, between the four of us." Jen: "We're... well, we're working on it. Let's just say" Larkin gave him a sideglance, considering, then said, "Didn't you wanna get out of here?" Izzy: "Yeah, yeah." Right. He should stop fucking being concerned and just go. They'd reached the top of the stairs, up in the alley. He was used to the illusion magic keeping this area covered, but since he'd moved out it been dropped. They were all out in the open, now, fucking exposed. He pulled away from her. "Yeah, I'll just ... get to that temple." He wondered if he should say I'll be fine. He kept telling himself she didn't care, but -- fuck. Jen: Larkin let go Finch and took a quick sep out of the alley, looking around for anything conspicuous. Seemed clear, though. She turned back to Finch, biting her lower lip. Fuck. He'd probably not accept anyway, but Larkin felt stupid offering, which probably was because it was a stupid idea, but... it might end bad for him if she didn't. She cleared her throat, eyes fixed on the wall. "Have you... uhm. Y'know, if you don't have a place... I got one. Out of Skyport. Roddy's there, too." Izzy: "I'll be fine." It just kind of slipped out. Well, she was kind of fucking asking. "I'll go back to the guildhouse, once I'm not all fucking -- shredded up and shit. Keep my cover." He ran a hand through his hair, twisting a couple locs. "Fuckin' ... Jonn'll cover for me, and that Amren shit is so fucking unhinged, we'll just say I was never at the warehouse. "Hey," he added suddenly. "Hey, that fucking Bala thing, Larkin, don't fucking mess with -- her, it, whatever. I don't know about Wyn's whole deal, but don't fuck with Bala." Jen: Larkin was shaking her head while he talked. Didn't sound at all like he had a plan. Sounded a whole fucking lot like desparation, but she could hardly tell him off for it. They weren't friends anymore. Then he talked about Bala. She wanted to wave it off, tell him they could deal with that but there was something in his voice making her hair stand on end. "Why?" She asked. "What did she do?" Izzy: He shook his head. "She's some kinda fucking ..." He swallowed. "Shapeshifting thing, I don't know, and she's got teleportation magic -- was just all over the fucking place. And some kind of white wolf or fox or something, I think it was her, but with the teleporting --." He grimaced. "I don't fucking know. She's a wizard, I think. A powerful one. I don't know what else." Jen: "Did you... did you seen her use any other magic?" Izzy: "Ice shit, and some necromantic shit -- not raising the dead, just, y'know --." He waved a hand. "Death magic. See, I think the fox thing was her because I saw it biting people, and the wounds just fucking festered, straight away, same deal. Necrotic. I don't know what she fucking is, just fucking dangerous. Had this knife, too, that was a whip thing." Jen: Shit. "Shit." Sounded fucking dangerous ideed. And to think that'd gone down while she was on the ship and could do anything... anything to stop it or help. At least Renar and Bretta had gotten out. The others, though... some of those bodies on the floor back in the warehouse had been almost strangers, known to her only by their gang tattoos. But some had been friends. Not close ones but still. Friendly faces she'd drank with, stolen with, and known for many years. All gone. Killed by two fucking psychos and a traitor. Larkin was going to fucking skin them. Izzy: "Yeah. Shit." He leaned on the javelin and glanced away. "Just ... fucking be careful, all right?" Jen: Ah, fuck. Fuck, fuck fuck. Larkin kicked a stone and muttered, "You, too." Izzy: He grumbled. Yeah, well, he'd been fucking trying, hadn't he? Stepped out of the bunker and immediately got fucked up again. That was what happened when he fucking went outside. Here he goddamn was, though. "Yeah." He turned towards the temple -- just a couple blocks -- and started shambling off. He'd make it, probably. END Title: Flock. Summary: Larkin tracks down Finch after the assault on the Basha warehouse, finding him heavily injured after intervening to save Renar and Bretta's lives. She patches him up and they're very emotionally awkward at each other. Category:Text Roleplay